Nineteen Years Later
by Albino Peacock
Summary: DH spoilers. Life should go on but their past continues to haunt them. Harry Potter and Draco Malfoy have a talk after bidding their sons goodbye at Platform 9¾ . Slash. Oneshot. HPDM.


**Disclaimer:** J.K. Rowling owns. I merely play. You do not sue.

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_The scar had not pained Harry for nineteen years. All was well. _

His hand dropped to his side as he remained staring at the spot where the train had disappeared, carrying his sons to the place he once called home. Harry felt Ginny's hand intertwine gently into his. He turned to face her and she gave him a loving smile. Harry could see the hidden sadness lingering in her eyes. He heaved a deep sigh and turned to watch his young daughter laughing and chattering with Hugo, the son of his two best friends.

"I'm sorry, Ginny," he said softly. "You don't have to keep holding on."

Guilt spread over every part of his body, he could no longer ignore it. Knowing he was the reason causing Ginny all this pain was like being stabbed by sharp knives, like being hit with the _Cruciatus_ curse but so much worse. He tried to forget, but he no longer had the strength to fight back the memories. James, Albus and Lily were what kept his world from falling apart but even they were slipping away slowly from his grasp. He'd always faced them with a happy face, fought hard to make them smile but once they'd turn, grief and loss would instantly take over. Ginny had tried to make him forget, and he loved her for that, but he could not stand to hurt her anymore. She deserved so much better, he deserved less. Self-loathing washed over him every time he caught sight of her soft crying at night. He wanted her to be happy, to feel free.

"I don't want to hurt you anymore…"

Tears were threatening to spill from her eyes, but Ginny was strong and she blinked them away. That was one of the many things he loved about her, she had the power to control her emotions so easily. If only he were like that.

"I don't want you to be alone," she replied, her voice low, "Stop pushing me away, and let me help you. We can make it work."

He'd tried to make it work, for the kids' sake but everyday he'd wake up to misery clouding his way. Everything was perfect in the beginning, he had everything he'd ever asked for but the past continued to haunt him. There was no way of escaping it and he didn't want Ginny and the kids to carry his burden along with him.

Harry shook his head stubbornly. He tried to find words to explain his feelings but nothing came to him. He gazed into her eyes, pleading for her to understand. He needed time away, needed to sort himself.

Nineteen years had past. But Harry could remember the battle so clearly in his mind. So many lives were gone, so many had suffered… and it was because of _him_. His life should have ended along with the many innocent. But here he was, standing healthy with a beautiful family. He didn't deserve any of it. Harry knew he should be feeling grateful, but guilt and sorrow pushed themselves heavily upon him. They were too powerful, they dominated him.

Ginny stared fiercely into his eyes. He looked away as he tried to swallow a lump stuck in his throat. He pulled his hand away from hers; her touch was like fire that burned through him.

Harry took a step back. "I – I – bathroom," he managed to say, his voice cracking. He walked away without looking at her; he was too weak and his Gryffindor bravery had deserted him, he couldn't bear to see the hurt in her eyes.

Everyone had managed to return to their lives once every tear was shed; they'd mourned, dealt with the grief and continued to live on as a new beginning unfolded before their eyes. He desperately fought to make things right, but the more he tried the more everything slithered away from his fingertips. An empty hole grew inside him with each day; nothing seemed to fill the void. He searched for _something_, but he didn't know what exactly it was and where he'd find it. He missed so many, craved to see the faces of the people he knew and once cared for. Images of bloody figures, memories… laughter and screams swam through his mind, flying so clearly before his eyes.

Harry was so lost in thought that he was oblivious as to where he was heading and as he rounded a corner, he bumped roughly into a silvery-blonde haired man.

"Oh, I'm sorry," he said before realising who he'd collided into.

Harry found himself staring down at Draco Malfoy, his eyes swept over the fallen man. They had once hated each other but the resentful feelings had slowly changed throughout the past nineteen years. They neither liked nor disliked each other now; a little respect had even grown between the two men. Harry offered the hand that had just been touching his wife's. Draco hesitated before taking it and he was helped up by Harry.

"Potter," said Draco, giving Harry a brisk nod. They both stared at each other as memories of their past ran in both their minds.

Harry tore his eyes away from Malfoy's after a while and looked around. He was not quite familiar with his surroundings; he was standing in a side of the platform that he'd never seen before. He wondered what Malfoy had been doing here; it seemed that they were the only ones around. Curious, Harry's eyes met the other man's once again and he raised an eyebrow in question.

"What are you doing here?" he asked, trying not to sound accusatory.

"I could ask you the same thing, Potter," replied Draco, his face expressionless.

Harry gazed at Draco for a few more moments, before turning around to walk back to his wife. He had many things to sort and avoiding them would only ever make the situation worse.

"Wait!" called Draco, taking a step forward.

Harry spun around and faced him in surprise. "Yes?"

Draco looked as though he was fighting an internal battle. At last, he cocked his head to a side, pointing to a few benches nearby in a hidden corner. Harry wondered what Malfoy wanted from him, but he knew his ex-nemesis wouldn't dare harm him so he followed. He soon took a seat opposite Draco, somewhat relieved for this distraction. Harry feared his return to his wife. He loathed the feeling of cowardice, but his return would reveal a door that he'd been trying for years to not open. Malfoy took out his new wand and put a Silencing Charm around them.

Harry waited for Malfoy to speak, but the man opposite him simply stared intently at the wand in his pale hand and then began fiddling with it between his long fingers.

"Have you asked me here to watch you play with your wand?" asked Harry, after some minutes of silence.

Draco raised his eyes slowly to meet green ones. Harry met his gaze without moving a muscle.

"No," replied Draco after a while and his eyes lowered back to his wand. He took his time before parting his lips once again and said, "I don't believe I ever thanked you for saving my life–twice at the final battle."

Harry shot him a considering look. "It really doesn't matter," he said, surprise laced in his voice.

Draco's grey eyes flicked slowly over Harry, noting the shadowy circles under the green eyes, the once wild hair now tamed and the sagging of the shoulders in what seemed to be defeat, exhaustion and helplessness. He would have made a scathing remark about Harry's lost confidence, but he was far too tired. He only wanted to make amends, to relieve his conscious; he'd witnessed his father's mistakes and fought to make life better for his own son. Draco had certainly grown out of his arrogance and spite he'd shown in his youth; realising that there was more to life than blood status, fame and wealth had taken time to settle in his mind. But it had sunk in, nonetheless.

He shut his eyes and rested his head against the wall. "Do you wonder if my son and yours would act the way we did?"

Harry frowned. "You mean Albus? No, he is… different," he mused, imaging his young son now on the train and hoping James was still by his side. "I hope history doesn't repeat itself," he added. Draco nodded, his eyes still closed. Silence fell over the two men, each one pulled into thought.

"He shouldn't have died," said Draco, minutes later. His eyes opened and he stared intently at Harry, a crease appearing between his eyes.

"I couldn't stop it," Harry said, knowing who Draco was talking about. Severus Snape's death played like a mini-movie in his eyes. He remembered the snake… the pleading. The truth about Snape had hit Harry hard; never would he have thought that the hated man had been best friends with his mother. He'd sacrificed everything… and he didn't even need to.

Severus Snape had been so much more but he only ever showed little of his true character. Harry loathed knowing that only a few people held respect for the dead man. Of course, no one knew the whole truth but Harry had made sure to inform the Wizarding world that the once greasy haired, bitter and cruel Potions Master had shown bravery that couldn't even be found in some Gryffindors. Harry appreciated everything Snape had done; the six years of cruelty he'd received had been forgotten, he had forgiven the man.

"Do they still talk about it or have they forgotten?" asked Draco, bringing Harry back to reality.

"They haven't forgotten but… everyone's talked far too much about it," replied Harry, knowing once again what Draco was referring to without having to ask.

"Except you?"

Harry drew a long, calming breath. "I've had enough of hurting people, I've stopped bringing up the subject that everyone avoids," he admitted. "Why all the curiosity?" he asked, arching an eyebrow.

"Well, because _you _are the only one who would ever understand, Potter. I lost people I cared for, just as you did… It's been nineteen years but I remember everything so clearly. Nothing seems to erase the memories and it tires me to see everyone so happy while I bleed to death inside," confessed Draco.

Harry's eyes widened a little, shocked. He'd never expected that from Malfoy. _I guess he'__s__ been through just as much as I have_, thought Harry.

"I only ever followed the Dark Lord's orders because I feared for my mother and father –"

"You don't have to justify your actions, Malfoy. I understand, we all went through difficult times," murmured Harry, shaking his head. A dense silence fell upon them.

"Have you tried a Pensieve?" offered Harry, a short while later.

"It only ever made the memories sharper to view. I spent a week wallowing in misery, I hated it," he replied bitterly.

Harry was somewhat disturbed by this, he'd experienced the same thing. "Maybe this is how it's meant to be? Our experiences have made us stronger, have they not?"

"But should we suffer because of them our whole lives? I've got a son, I need to look forward into the future, I can't keep living in the past," said Draco, rising to his feet and turning his back on Harry.

"Let it go, then."

"Can you?" came Draco's challenging reply and he faced Harry again after a while.

Harry shrugged and also got to his feet. "Perhaps in nineteen more years we'll meet again and I'll be able to answer you that question," said Harry, giving Draco a slight smile. He leaned back against the wall, ran a hand through his black hair and crossed his arms across his chest. Draco's lips curved into a smile that showed his dazzling, white teeth. "Perhaps new adventures will make us forget?"

Harry laughed. "I think I've had adventures that would last me a lifetime… I need to get away from here, for a while."

"What about your wife?"

"There is nothing between us… everything's lost," said Harry after seconds of silence. Draco made a noise in agreement. Harry was taken aback; he'd always thought Malfoy's marriage was perfect.

"She'll be leaving soon, the only reason she's stayed for this long is for Scorpius' sake."

It was somewhat bizarre to be having this conversation with Malfoy, mainly because his life seemed to be headed exactly in the same direction as Harry's.

"I never thought we'd ever have anything in common," said Harry, half-amused, half-incredulous. Draco stood mere inches away from him. Harry studied the lean figure, from the black leather shoes, the dark coat, pale complexion, unfocused grey eyes and he grinned as he caught sight of the other man's receding hair line.

"Don't you dare say anything, Potter," warned Draco, noticing the green eyes fixed on his hair.

"I wasn't going to," replied Harry, innocently. Draco took a step forward and finally put his wand away. Harry stuck out a hand.

"I guess I'll see you soon… Draco," he said. They'd never been on first name basis, but Harry felt that the conversation they'd had was friendly enough. He felt like a wall between them had shattered. They were men now; they were no longer the boys they used to be. Draco took Harry's hand in his and stepped even more closely. Harry raised an eyebrow.

What happened next was so unexpected that Harry almost lost consciousness. His insides had melted and pulse raced at the sight of Draco's pink lips descending to his. His senses deserted him and he no longer had any control over himself. He tried to push the man away, but his body remained frozen. Meanwhile, the other man's hand had made its way smoothly to Harry's head and the pale, long fingers were gently playing with the black, tamed hair.

Grey eyes stared deeply into green ones. Lips soon began moving. A lean body pressed another against the wall. A hand lifted slowly and hesitantly to wrap around a neck. Oxygen soon became hard to breathe and a sudden world of possibilities opened itself to the two men. And then, they finally pulled apart, panting.

"There are some adventures you have yet to explore… _Harry_," purred Draco.

A gasp escaped Harry's now swollen lips as he stared down at Draco's right hand, still gripping his. He suddenly realised that a small part in the gaping hole inside him began to close and the passion for life he'd lost so long ago rushed through every vein in his body. It felt wonderful and never in a million years would he have thought that Draco Malfoy would awaken him back to life. It was surreal, immoral on so many levels but that simple kiss brought spirit back to him.

Perhaps he would finally find true happiness… even if it was nineteen years later?


End file.
